Bound For Eden (47 page)

‘I can't hold on,' she cried desperately, feeling her sweaty fingers begin to slip. Just as they slid from the fissure Luke grabbed her by the wrists.

She could see the tendons straining in his neck. How could he lift her? The blood was flowing faster and faster down his arms. His skin looked like the skin of a corpse, a frightening bluish gray. Saving her would cost him his life, she realised.

‘Let me go,' she begged. She couldn't bear it if he were to die.

‘No,' he growled through gritted teeth.

But they could both feel her weight pulling him slowly over the lip of the precipice.

‘How touching,' Gideon drawled, suddenly looming over them in the flesh, his rifle dangling from his hand. He leaned over to consider the drop. He gave a low whistle. ‘Sure is a long way down, ain't it?'

Slowly he pulled the hammer back on the rifle. And then lazily, nonchalantly, he rested the barrel against the back of Luke's head. ‘Let go of her, Slater,' he said conversationally, ‘or I'll shoot you. Then she'll go over anyway.'

‘Listen to him,' Alex whispered, feeling his grip begin to slip and seeing the desperation in his eyes. ‘Let me go.' She knew he was fighting pain and a threatening black wave of unconsciousness.

‘I love you,' he gritted, tightening his grip on her wrists. It was his way of saying
never
.

Tears flooded from her. She'd never known how much she wanted to hear those words fall from his lips, but not like this, she thought with a sob. Not like
this.
‘I love you too,' she said, knowing what she had to do.

She drank in her fill of his face, counting down silently until the moment she would wrench her arms out of his grasp. Her death would buy his life, and it was a price she was willing to pay.
Three . . . two . . .

Before she got to
one
there was a gunshot. She screamed, thinking he'd shot Luke.

But she was still hanging above the steep drop. And Luke was still holding onto her. ‘Silas, you dumb bastard,' Gideon sighed, lifting the rifle away from Luke's head, ‘why won't you ever stay dead?'

‘Back off, Gideon,' she heard Silas rattle.

Gideon hooted. ‘Or what? You'll shoot me? We both know you can't shoot straight.'

‘Hold on,'
Luke hissed at her. His left hand released her wrist, shooting out to grab hold of Gideon's ankle. ‘Go to hell, Grady.' With the last of his strength he yanked Gideon's feet out from under him.

Crack.
Silas fired simultaneously.

Alex saw Gideon's eyes widen in astonishment. Luke's shove, coupled with the force of Silas's shot, threw him backwards. His arms flailed as he went over. And then he was plummeting past her, his body making an eerie whistling noise as it fell. As long as she lived she would never forget the sound his body made as it landed in the forest below.

Silas collapsed beside Luke. He was weeping blood now. Alex didn't know how he could still be alive. He reached down and gripped her arms, just above Luke's hands. With a bone-shuddering cry, he helped Luke haul her up, and between them the two wounded men managed to pull her back up onto the ledge.

Alex rolled over and kissed Luke. She tasted blood. His gaze was glassy. ‘Hold on,' she whispered through her tears. ‘I'll get help. Don't you die on me.'

‘Alex?' A tortured rattle pulled her attention away from Luke.

‘Silas?' she said gently, wincing as she took in the monstrous mutilation of his face.

‘I'm sorry,' he rattled. ‘I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this . . . for any of this.'

‘I know.' Alex felt a pity so acute it hurt. ‘You saved me, Silas.'

‘Us,' Luke rasped. ‘You saved
us.
'

Silas turned his head to look at Luke. ‘Look after her,' he wheezed, as his last breath eased through his broken body, ‘you lucky bastard.' And then he died, broken and brotherless, but with the woman he loved alive and whole before him.

Alex swallowed and carefully closed his vacant eyes. Luke began to cough and she scuttled to his side, alarmed. ‘Don't you die on me,' she ordered again.

‘I wouldn't dare,' he sighed, as he succumbed to the insistent blackness.

Forty-Two

Luke drifted in and out of consciousness. His hands stayed clenched around the sheets. He had to hold on. He couldn't let go or she'd fall.

But then her face swam over him, her gold-streaked curls tumbling over her furrowed brow as her rainstorm-coloured eyes stared deep into his. ‘I love you,' he mumbled, ‘I won't let you fall.' And then the rainstorm broke into swirling smoke.

When he finally came to, he was as sore as hell. Every muscle ached and there were burning points of agony: one in his arm, one in his shoulder, one in his leg. He groaned.

Alex leapt up from the chair beside his bed and the dime novel she was reading tumbled to the floor. ‘You're awake!'

‘I wish I wasn't,' he moaned.

‘Tom! Matt!' she shouted, rushing to the door. He winced. There was a clatter of boots on the stairs and then his brothers appeared in the doorway. They broke into smiles when they saw he was awake.

‘What happened to your face?' he grumped at Matt, noticing that a beard was bristling again.

‘I got sick of shaving.'

‘He means he got sick of the attention,' Tom hooted.

‘Quiet down,' Alex said primly, ‘this is a sick room, not a dance hall.'

‘Who was bellowing down the stairs a minute ago?' Tom reminded her.

‘Never mind that. I called you in here for a reason.'

‘We can see. Luke's awake.'

‘Not that.'

‘No?'

‘Well, yes that,' she amended, ‘but not just that.' They stared at her in puzzlement and she began to blush. She cleared her throat nervously. ‘It may have come to your attention that your brother is in love with me.'

Luke looked at her in astonishment.

Tom and Matt rolled their eyes. ‘You mean, because of the way he's been shouting it at the top of his voice every few hours?'

Luke scowled. He'd done no such thing. Had he?

‘That's enough, Matthew,' Alex said sternly. ‘Your brother has been very ill.'

‘Lovesick,' Matt agreed.

Alex glared at him, but he didn't look in the slightest bit chagrined.

‘Hurry up, Alex,' Tom sighed, ‘I'm due to head out.'

‘That's why I wanted to talk to you.'

‘So, hurry up and talk to me.'

‘You're completely ruining the moment,' she complained.

‘Would you all hurry up,' Luke sighed, ‘you're giving me a headache.'

Alex gave him a sympathetic look and leaned over to feel his forehead. He couldn't help but appreciate the weight of her breasts against his chest.

‘You're hardly going to be able to
feel
his headache,' Matt said, exasperated.

‘I really do have to go,' Tom complained.

‘Oh, you two are impossible,' Alex exclaimed, stamping her foot.

‘I told you, didn't I?' Luke said smugly.

She planted her hands on her hips. ‘You shush too. I can't ask them if you keep interrupting.'

‘Ask them what?'

‘Thomas, Matthew,' she began formally, ‘I'd like to ask you for your brother's hand in marriage.'

There was a round of choking noises as they struggled not to laugh. Alex glared at them. ‘Well, I don't know,' Matt said dryly, ‘you don't seem to be too good for his health.'

‘Shut up, Matt,' Tom sighed. ‘You're welcome to him, Alex.'

‘Thank you.' She moved to the doorway. ‘Stephen!' she bellowed.

The Slater brothers blinked as Stephen Sparrow appeared as if by magic. He'd obviously been waiting just outside the door. Adam skipped in behind him, followed by Victoria, who was bearing two handfuls of what looked like weeping spruce, which she'd tied together with satin ribbons. ‘You
would
get married in winter,' she said apologetically, passing a bunch of spruce to Alex, before taking up her post as Maid of Honour, her own spruce held solemnly in front of her.

Luke blinked and looked at his brothers. They seemed as bewildered as he felt.

‘Now, he's very tired,' Alexandra told her brother, ‘so we don't need a long service. Just the basics will do.'

And before Luke knew what was happening Stephen was asking him if he'd take Alexandra Antoinette Barratt to be his lawful wedded wife.

‘I didn't know your middle name was Antoinette,' he said.

‘There's a lot you don't know about me,' she observed, ‘now answer the question.'

‘I guess I do,' he said, vaguely astonished.

And the next thing he knew Stephen was declaring them man and wife and asking him to kiss the bride. Which his suddenly bossy bride didn't let him do; she took matters in her own hands and kissed him first.

Then she took it upon herself to send everyone packing. ‘He's still ill,' she kept saying, as she pushed them bodily from the room.

‘I'll see you when I get back from California, Luke,' he heard Tom call as she closed the door.

He watched, amused, as Alex fussed about the room, avoiding his gaze. ‘Come here, wife,' he ordered.

She blushed. ‘I guess you think that was high-handed,' she said, taking the offensive, ‘but if I'd waited for you to come to your senses I might have died an old maid.'

He grabbed her by the wrist and hauled her down on the bed beside him, wincing at the pain in his shoulder. But who was he to let a little pain spoil his wedding night?

‘Don't think that my marrying you means I've forgiven you for tying me up,' she warned him, before she could melt under the heat of his dark eyes.

‘I'll never do it again,' he swore, as he pulled her towards him, his gaze dropping to her ripe mouth.

‘I've heard that before.'

‘Would you feel better if I let you tie
me
up?' he murmured against her mouth, as he began to kiss her.

Alex's eyebrows shot up. She had a sudden vision of Luke Slater at her mercy. Naked.

Oh glory.

Acknowledgements

Where would I be without the amazing writers in my life? Thank you to the South Australian Romance Authors for being my teachers, readers, supporters, counselors and dearest friends. Particular thanks to Lynn Ward, Linda Brown, Suzie Hindmarsh-Knights, Bronwyn Stuart, Victoria Purman, Trish Morey, Anne Oliver, Elizabeth Rolls, Maggie Mundy, Lilliana Rose, Clare Baxter and Sharon Francesca.

Extra special thanks to Anna Campbell and Anne Gracie, who were generous mentors and encouraging cheerleaders: I have learned so much from both of you.

Thank you to my agent, Clare Forster.

Thank you to Stephanie Smith, Annabel Blay and Jessica Dettman for their sensitive and deft edits.

To Jo Mackay and the wonderful women of Harlequin: thank you for everything!

Thank you to the Romance Writers of Australia and to the SA Writers' Centre.

And to my colleagues in the English and Creative Writing department at Flinders University – especially Kate Douglas, Kylie Cardell, Patrick Allington, Erin Sebo and Lisa Bennett – thanks.

To the Write Club members – Jonny, Dan, Clare and Chelsea – who sat around many tables on many days, listening to me bash away at my keyboard. We rock.

To Mum, Dad and Gerald, who are always ready with champagne in good times and bad: I love you.

To my kids: I'm sure it's heaps embarrassing having a mum who writes sex scenes. Sorry about that. I love you both.

And last, but never least, Jonny: be glad I didn't mention the morning glory in the dedication. I wanted to.

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